Play Time With Sensei
by Moiya Hatake
Summary: Oneshot - Companion piece for "Dogs Are Better Than Toads" and "Soup For Sensei".


**Title:** Play Time With Sensei  
By MoiyaHatake Beta'd by Vernajast, huggles  
**Characters:** Kakashi, Minato and mentioned Sakumo  
**Warnings:** Cute, adorable fluff. And complete rubbish.  
**Rated:** G for Gooey Sweet  
**Summary:** Three year old antics and a very patient shinobi.

Companion piece for "Dogs Are Better Than Toads" and "Soup For Sensei". Originally posted to the LiveJournal community YonKaka.

* * *

**Play Time With Sensei**

Minato couldn't be angry. Not with someone who pouted so adorably, even if he could see the devilish grin hidden behind the false expression,."You know, Kashi-kun, you probably could have avoided the mud. Maybe just a little." Sakumo had warned him. Sakumo had told him not to baby him. But Sakumo had three years of experience dealing with the little shinobi. He'd already built up an immunity, or maybe he had a special 'don't fall for Kakashi's cuteness' jutsu he used on himself.

"My foot slipped." Kakashi shrugged, fingering his kunai a bit before chancing another glance up at his sensei. It was difficult to keep a straight face when the man was obviously not happy about being covered in muck and mud. But a shinobi never showed their true emotions to the enemy and Minato-sensei hadn't said they were finished sparring so technically he was still the enemy. And since he was still the enemy, Kakashi felt it was his duty to...

"Don't even think about it." Minato's frown depended. "I think that's enough for today."

"Damn."

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing."

Minato raised an eyebrow at the three year old and turned away slowly as if expecting another attack from the over zealous boy. He sometimes forgot Kakashi was so young when he was flying about and moving cat like through the trees, attacking and blocking simultaneously as if his brain could instantly compute every possible scenario. He was most definitely a strategist. Impressive wasn't a strong enough word to describe the little Hatake.

But then there were moments when Kakashi was nothing more than a three year old boy, and it melted Minato's heart into something mushy. Like now, when the boy behind him wasn't really making much of an effort to pack his weapons and head home with the excitement he usually displayed. Minato could feel his eyes on him, but when he glanced back to see what Kakashi was up to, they were downcast and his foot fidgeted with a shuriken he didn't seem too interested in picking up at the moment.

"Kakashi."

The innocent look was one he was very familiar with. "Yes, sensei?"

"Is there something wrong?"

"No." Kakashi smiled before running around the clearing, grabbing stray weapons and stuffing them into his pouch.

Minato wasn't buying the act. Kakashi may be good--no, great--at a lot of things, but lying wasn't one of them. But pushing the little shinobi to say something he wasn't ready to admit was like asking for another mud bath and, strangely enough, he wasn't feeling like eating mud pies for lunch. So he did what he always did: he took a deep breath and counted to ten.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Kashi-kun. I'm going home to wash this ick out of my hair; I suggest you do the same." He smiled warmly, ruffling the equally muddy mop of silver spikes, and disappeared before Kakashi could trick him or prank him or make some smart comment about his inabilities to teach. The usual goodbye ritual.

Kakashi stared at the spot where the blonde had been for a long time before he sat down, plucking grass out of the soft soil.

He didn't want to go home to an empty house.

Minato regretted leaving Kakashi so abruptly and stopped about half way home, prepared to go back and find out why the boy been a bit off today. But he kept hearing Sakumo's voice telling him not to baby the boy. And then his mud sodden brain reminded him that Kakashi would probably be offended by his sympathy. So he turned back in the general direction of his apartment and forced himself to continue. Then, stopped. What if there was something wrong? As Kakashi's sensei, didn't he have a responsibility to the boy other than teaching him to be a shinobi? Yes and no. That was Sakumo's job, after all.

Right?

An hour later, a far cleaner blonde ran his hand squeakily over the bathroom window and peered out, frowning at the sudden appearance of darker clouds and a light drizzle. His conscience still wasn't satisfied with his earlier decision and all he could do was hope Kakashi had gone straight home. Sakumo would make sure he was cleaned up and warm, so there was no reason for him to be worrying.

Right?

He wondered vaguely if conversing with his inner self was healthy or not before heading to the bedroom to get dressed. No longer capable of ignoring his rumbling stomach, which nearly matched the thunder currently rolling across the heavens. A hot bowl of ramen would fix things up, and then maybe...he'd go sneak a peek, just to be sure...

_Tap tap tap... _

Minato looked up from the instant ramen directions, finger poised over _3 minutes_, and stared disbelieving at the huddled form outside his window. "Kakashi!"

He was pulling the boy inside before the package hit the floor, carrying him into the bathroom and setting him in the tub, yanking the still damp towel off the rack and wrapping it around the shivering three year old. "You're still muddy! Why didn't you go home? You're going to catch cold wandering around in the rain. Look at your fingers, they're blue."

Kakashi stood silently watching Minato rub and breath, coaxing warmth back into his tiny hands. "Father's on a mission and..." he took a shaky breath. "He always make's me a hot bath...and tea..." He wiped his nose on the back of is arm. "Is it weak to want him to come home for that?"

Minato was struck dumb by the display of emotion the three year old was clearly trying to suppress. It must have been quite a struggle for him to decide he needed to ask Minato for help because his routine at home was more than just a little out of whack. And once again, Minato felt his heart melting for the boy who looked far younger than he had earlier, when he'd been throwing kunai at his head with deadly accuracy.

So he was only mildly surprised when Kakashi let himself be pulled into his lap and hugged. "No. It's not weak." Minato smiled when the boy rested his head on his shoulder, smearing remnants of mud across his cheek. "Would it be ok if I ran you a hot bath and made some tea? Just until Sakumo comes home?"

Kakashi nodded, reluctantly climbing down to let the blonde make good on his offer. "Do you have bubbles?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course. What kind of shinobi would I be if I didn't have bubbles?"

"A normal one."

Minato chuckled, running his hand under the water once before grabbing a bottle off the shelf. "Normal is boring."

Kakashi, tucked halfway under the sink where he was investigating the various contents, rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing, Kashi-kun?"

"Looking for toys. _Normal_ shinobi wouldn't have toys, but since we've established you're not normal, I thought I'd at least check."

"Well, then, I should tell you, all my rubber duckies are in the basket on the back of the toilet."

"You have rubber duckies?" Kakashi giggled incredulously, backing out of the cabinet. He'd been joking about the toys just to get a rise out of the man, but upon seeing the mountain of pristine white bubbles threatening to spill over the edge of the tub, he stripped off his soiled clothes, snide comment forgotten, and leaped in.

He could insult sensei any time, the bath wouldn't stay hot forever.

Minato dumped the entire collection of ducks into the tub, watching them disappear beneath the swaying heap of foam. He was glad to see Kakashi making a full recovery, but wondered if all three years old swung from one emotion to another without warning or if it was just his special little student in all his glorious complexity.

Kakashi appeared a second later, sputtering and wiping the bubbles off his face, holding up one of the little ducks for inspection. A red one with black horns. He eyed the blonde sideways and Minato could see a sarcastic jab at his ability to teach when he was silly enough to own devil ducks sitting behind quirked lips. But Kakashi apparently decided the look was enough, and within minutes he was floating around, dunking under, piling bubbles on top of his head, lining the ducks up in a row, lost in his own imagination like a _normal_ three year old taking a bath with rubber ducks should be.

So Minato left him to his _play time_, secretly amused by his students more childish side, and made them both a bowl of instant ramen and fresh tea while listening to the occasional splash and mock battle floating in from the bathroom until he was sure the boy was beyond wrinkled and was forced to call him out.

Just as a bolt of lightening split the sky in two with a loud crack causing the windows to shake, suddenly throwing them into darkness.

"Sensei?"

Minato cursed, setting the kettle on the stove and feeling for the correct drawer, "Stay there, I'm coming."

Another crack and rumble and Minato could hear foot steps running up the hall. Another bolt flashed across silver hair and wide eyes just before Kakashi was wedged between his legs and the counter, still wet, still naked. Minato crouched in front of him, pulling his hand up. "Hold this." He struck the match and lit the candle he'd given Kakashi, watching the light dance over the boys features. "Better?"

"I'm not scared." Kakashi frowned.

"Of course not, but at least you can see now, right?"

"Yes, sensei." A curt nod.

It was clear the boy wasn't happy with his reaction to the storm. Perhaps if he'd been home with Sakumo he wouldn't be so embarrassed, but here, with Minato, his sensei, he was obviously outside of his comfort zone. Minato remembered his question about being weak and understood. Kakashi was always at conflict with himself. Trying to be the perfect shinobi and feeling everything a normal three-year-old should.

"There's a night shirt you can wear lying on the bed, but you might want to dry off first." Minato grinned, watching Kakashi cast a glance at the dark hallway, then down at himself, before locking eyes with Minato, "Could you show me?"

Minato stood, blinking down at the tiny hand silently slipped into his own. He squeezed gently, just a small acknowledgment, and hoped Kakashi wouldn't change his mind at the obvious attempt to comfort him, "We can get you a clean towel on the way."

"May I borrow some socks, too, sensei?"

"You want toads or kunai?"

"Dogs?"

"No dogs. Sorry."

"Kunai, then." Kakashi grinned, "You probably have matching boxers."

"Why? You want those, too?"

"No!" Kakashi giggled running through the door. He paused, turning to hand his candle to Minato before climbing onto the plush bed. "You're spoiled sensei," he declared, bouncing up and down.

"Spoiled?"

"Rubber ducks, toad socks, whatever this thick thing is on your bed." Kakashi plopped down onto his back and snuggled in. "We don't have stuff like this at home and we live just fine, so you must be spoiled."

"It's called a pillow mattress. Put this on before I change my mind about sharing my ramen."

Kakashi sat up, ignoring the towel and pulling the t-shirt over his head. "You can't survive on just ramen, sensei."

"Oh?"

"You have to have meat and vegetables, too."

"I'll try to remember that the next time I go to Icharaku's," Minato chuckled, digging through the closet and pulling out a small box. Kakashi jumped off the bed, standing as close to the blond as he could get when a sudden crack sizzle filled the sky outside and the room lit up momentarily. Minato could hear his rapid breathing, and then a hand on his arm when thunder vibrated through the room. "If you count from the moment you see the lightening until you hear the thunder..."

"You can estimate how far away the storm is," Kakashi finished his sentence, his voice barely a whisper, "I am a genius, sensei."

"Ok, genius. You carry this, and I'll bring the emergency supplies."

"Shogi?"

"You play with your father right?"

"I sometimes win."

"Well, you can try and beat me while we eat."

"What about my socks?"

Minato tucked the box under one arm and pulled a pair out of the top drawer of his dresser, tossing them on top of the board in Kakashi's hands. "Move out, shinobi. There's ramen to be eaten and tea getting cold." He plucked the melting candle off the side table before following a marching Kakashi up the hall.

Kakashi hurried over to the table and began setting up the board, tongue tucked between his lips, making sure each piece was perfect. Minato rummaged through the box, pulling out candles, lighting them and setting them in their holders. The storm had escalated, and anything not held down was blowing about the streets, banging up against the walls. After the third loud scrape against the kitchen window, Minato jerked it open and snapped the end of the branch off.

When he returned, carrying their lunch, he was wishing he had a camera because a little Kakashi swimming in his shirt, hair damp and sticking out at odd angles, watching his toes wiggling in the kunai printed socks that reached his thighs was a photo he'd love to have sitting on his desk. And he realized he was growing quite fond of the little demon brat who made killer hot soup for his sick sensei and argued over summons and even insulted him whenever an opportunity presented itself.

"You can keep those, if you want."

"They're soft. You like soft things, don't you?"

"Does that make me a bad shinobi?"

"No. Just...different."

"Kashi-kun, I think you're starting to like me," Minato teased.

"You're growing on me. Let's leave it at that." Kakashi dropped a pillow stolen from the couch onto the floor and sat opposite of Minato, making his first move without hesitation.

"Eat your ramen, brat."

Three games later, Minato pulled his knees up to his chest, frowning over his luke warm cup of tea. "You have not been playing since you were two."

Kakashi mimicked the blonde sitting opposite of him on the couch. "Ive been walking since I was eight months old. Talking since I was one. I bet I've read more books than you have sensei." Strangely, there wasn't a hint of arrogance in the boys voice, just simple facts. Except for the jab at Minato's reading abilities or intelligence or both. He could tell the boy was poking fun at him again because Kakashi had ducked down a bit to hide the grin behind his cup, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Then, he was under the blanket, cup clattering to the floor, and Minato could have sworn he heard a whimper before it was drowned out by an even louder crash of thunder and flash of lightening that seemed unending and more violent than the others. "Kakashi?" He leaned forward, feeling around for the lump wiggling across the small space. After a bit of rearranging, silver hair appeared tucked under one arm and Kakashi chanced a glance up at the blond.

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for unless your referring to the soup incident." Minato grinned, tucking the blanket in around them.

"I'm sorry for the soup, too."

"It wasn't so bad. I think I've eaten worse."

"Sensei. You had to go to the hospital."

"Sure, but you didn't know I was allergic to wasabi."

"You're not allergic. Your throat swelled up from the spices."

"Kakashi."

"And Tsunade-sama had to..."

"I'm fine, and your apology is accepted. Let's talk about something else."

"Adults say that when they're not comfortable with the topic or they think I don't understand." Kakashi tried to stifle the yawn, rubbing one eye and leaning a little closer to Minato.

"True. Your soup nearly killed me, but I'm not holding it over you." He hoped Kakashi didn't believe he would ever accuse him of not being capable of understanding. "Now, can we talk about something more interesting than my near death experience?" he chuckled, absentmindedly running his fingers through soft silver strands.

"Can I have one of your rubber duckies?" A full yawn finally broke free and heavy lids blinked a few times before surrendering.

"Which one?"

"The dog. Father says...I can't have a nin-dog...until I graduate from the academy."

Minato slid further down, tucking a pillow under his neck and stretching his legs out, carefully readjusting the nearly unconscious three-year-old against his chest until they were both more comfortable. "Yes, you can have the dog ducky," he said softly, smiling to himself.

"Thank you." The words were merely a breath forced out between parted lips. Kakashi's last ditch effort at staying awake. A battle he lost soon after.

Minato smiled, glancing towards the kitchen window. Apparently, the storm had died out with that last big show of force, taking the boy with it, both slipping into a quiet calm that left Minato feeling drained. So he turned his face into silver strands, relaxing into Kakashi's warmth and soft even breaths.


End file.
